A Missing Moment : Quelii Sector
by Zolo77
Summary: A missing moment from Courtship of Princess Leia


_Disclaimer - Disney's (although I really hate to give them the misery of credit for the ridiculous mess of a novel which inspired this piece) universe, not mine. _

_AN: A missing moment (Courtship of Princess Leia), which has been bubbling for some time, kinda sorta mentioned in my Into the Future fic, this explores how our fav couple was able to come around from that horrid (insert gagging sounds here) mess of a novel. Please review! (Oh and part of me half remembers Han's leg being broken or something by the crazy-bitch Nightsister, but that doesn't really work for me, and it's a dumb book anyway, so we're going to pretend that doesn't happen - if it ever did). Have a good week!_

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><p>"Please stop!" She cried, squeezing her eyes shut, not bothering to wipe the tears fiercely flowing down her cheeks. Let them run. She took a long shattering breath, ears ringing. Her head ached, the blood pounded in her ears; tension and heartbreak overwhelming her. He didn't care, and Leia didn't blame him. He didn't stop either. Anger thundered from him again, he advanced on her, and she took yet another step back, bumping up against the hard cold metal wall of the Falcon's main hold, eyes snapping open. He had been yelling at her for almost an hour; angry and desperate. Floating at the edge of the Quelii Sector, the events of the past week and a half had come crashing into her.<p>

"Please! Please stop, I'm sorry, please!" she begged again, hands pressing into the wall at her back, her voice cracking. She reached from him, he was in front of her now, uncomfortably close, towering over her. Her hand shook as she moved to place it tentatively on his chest, both to stop his advance on her - she had no where else to go - and to help her move passed the fear which was gripping at her heart. She had never seen this side of him before; it terrified her.

As quickly as her hand made purchase on his chest he batted it angrily away. That was it. She sunk to the floor. Sobbing, her head fell into her hands. He stood above her, glaring down at her small frame, heaving with effort and curled into herself. He was silent now, simply watching her fall to pieces in front of him. She was hiccuping apologies and pleading forgiveness. But it wasn't his to give, not entirely at least.

"Please, Chewie, please. I'm sorry. Please let me be. I'll leave him alone, please just stop..." she whispered as the towering, angry mass of fur squatted down in front of her, silent, blue eyes angry. They stayed regarding each other, Leia's face streaked with tears, breaths coming in short, hiccuping bursts. He growled low, calmer but with the same tightly leashed menace which had bombarded her for the last hour. "But-" she started and he cut her off again, growling louder this time. "I love him, Chewie." She whispered, pleading with the large male wookie in front of her, the large wookie who, up until eleven days ago when she essentially spat on everything which was so important to her, had unconditional loved her. Now though, she watched him watch her, she wasn't sure how she could ever expect him to trust her again.

"I'll do anything I need to, I swear I will." Leia took a deep breath and bent her knees up in front of her, and wrapped her arms around herself, trying desperately to hold on to something.

Chewie was right. About everything. Stupid human. That's what he had called her; repeatedly. She had destroyed more than her relationship with Han. She had betrayed Chewbacca, turned her back on her brother and made a mockery of everything she thought she had been. Han had been right all along; he didn't deserve her. She was no better then any other girl he'd picked up and tried on a for a while. Fake and flaky. She thought she was different. She claimed to be different. He had loved her, and she had thrown all of what that meant back at him. And for _what_? For nothing. She had tossed him aside, just like everyone else in his life had done. Everyone except the large brown mass hovering in front of her. She had betrayed him for the Republic. _Just like Bria_. Leia choked back a sob again and pressed the back of her fist to her mouth, stifling a scream which threatened to break.

Chewie stood then, gruffed quietly and walked back towards the cockpit leaving her to deal with the aftermath of what she had done.

**xXx**

He felt like hell. And had he the strength to stumble into the fresher, he would likely find that he _looked_ like hell too. But there was really no point in confirming what he could feel, so he lay as still as he could bear to in his bunk and watched bright lights blink and fade across his eyelids.

His jaw throbbed, the painkillers he had popped an hour ago hadn't done anything. He needed sleep, but the very one-sided fight going on down the hallway from his cabin ensured that was out of the question. He shouldn't have been surprised, but he was. Chewie always - even from the very start - had a soft spot for Leia. He had always admired her strength, the way she stood up for herself and her cause, how she managed to rile him up so easily. Chewbacca had developed a strangely deep protectiveness towards her early on; she tiny size, her age, and even her innate shyness in their early relationship had secured her a space in the wookie's heart. His feelings toward that bond shifted swiftly however, and it was a heartening sight to watch the two of them deep in quiet conversation, or Leia helping his friend repair the _Falcon_. Chewie was the only thing standing between Leia and Vader that horrid day on Bespin, and he trusted his friend with her life, something much more precious than his own.

The roaring and rage-filled howling seized immediately, and he strained to make out any noise from the hold. Han had almost decided to get up and make sure Chewie hadn't actually started causing damage to Leia or the _Falcon_ - as unlikely as each of those ideas were - when the door to his room slid open. The room was dark and silhouetted in the doorway was a tiny shadow, a small slip of a woman who had turned his world on its head eight years ago.

Han said nothing, only watched her. She stood undecided in the doorway, something clutched to her chest.

"In or out, Princess." He finally sighed, trying to muffle the definite edge to his voice. That seemed to snap her attention from wherever it had been, and she stepped lightly into the room.

"Han, I..." she started and trailed off, her voice broken and ragged. "I brought you a few things." she finished lamely, offering up the items she had gripped to herself.

"Is it a new face? Cuz I sure could use one." He breathed. She took his flippant comment as an invitation and slipped slowly towards him, as if afraid he'd pull a blaster on her if she made any sudden movements.

"Here," she placed the handful of medical supplies on his bunk.

_His. Not theirs. Not anymore._ She hiccuped again, new hot tears burning the back of her eyes.

"I'm fine." He closed his eyes. He really didn't have the strength for this. Not yet.

"You're not fine, you're hurt. Badly."

"It'll heal. Don't worry about it." The ever present pain in his chest, which had been there since he walked into the grande foyer twelve days ago and watched the woman he loved, the woman who loved _him_, easily entertain the thought of a life without him, triggered and expanded.

"No, please," she begged, "Please, Han, please let me help you." And held the bacta gel and bandages loosely in her right hand, lifting them softly, as if to emphasize her plea.

"Leia." He breathed, letting her name wash over him, settle deep into his bones, back where it belonged.

"Yes?"

"Why?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry. I... I love you. I'm sorry. Please, Han. Please forgive me. You have to forgive me, please." He hated to see her cry. Her life had been made up of tiny points of pain and desolation all pieced together, and now, there was one more. One for him.

"That's not good enough, Sweetheart." She choked again, leaning heavily on the bed to support herself, eyes screwed painfully shut.

"I love you." she rasped. He stayed silent, tears of anger prickling the surface of his eyes. His heart clenched. Instead of answering, he reached for the bottle of gel she had brought with her, and smeared a large amount on his fingers, leaning up to rub the healer into his jaw and across his back teeth. The swelling had already started to go down with the capsules Luke had given him after the whole mess was over. Tomorrow, he figured, he would at least _look_ normal again. As far as how long it would take to get _back_ to normal, he had no idea.

"That sounded like on hell of a discussion." he pointed out casually and snapped the lid of the gel back into place. Leia said nothing, instead she nodded shortly and didn't meet his eyes.

"Seemed a bit one-sided though. You surprise me, Princess. You can usually give as good as you take." At this she shook her head, eyes still closed, breathing coming in short spurts.

"Chewie hates me." she finally said, her voice sounded too small, even to herself.

"Chewie's loyal. It's a hard quality to find these days." Han sneered at her, bruised face wincing slightly with the effort of it. She looked at him then, eyes wide and scared.

"Did you love him?" He asked suddenly. Angry now that she seemed so vulnerable.

"No." She breathed. He stared at her, unmoving.

"Did you kiss him?" Tears escaped and rolled again down her cheeks. She nodded an affirmative. He wanted her to say it, to acknowledge it for what it was. A betrayal.

"Answer me!" He shouted, surprising them both.

"Yes, but-"

"Did you fuck him?" he snarled. She met his eyes and tried to shrink away from him. He grabbed her quickly and hard around the top of her arm, squeezing her and pulling her to him, blood thundering in his ears, he could feel his pulse quicken and roar across his throat.

"No." She hissed, appalled at the idea.

"Don't lie to me Leia!" He shouted again, louder this time and jerked her towards the head of the bed, forcing her to see him.

"Han, you're hurting me, please let go." She whispered desperately. He didn't. He couldn't. His face twisted angrily and he growled from between clenched teeth. He must look a sight, the small still-logical side of his brain determined. Bruised, bloodied, utterly exhausted and stark naked, his chest heaving hard and cold sweat threatening at the nape of his neck.

"Answer me!" He growled, his face within inches of hers.

"No, never." She breathed, eyes imploring, small hand coming to rest over his rapid heart. "I'm yours." She whispered softly, hand pressing down on his chest, "always only yours."

He didn't have time to think, he pulled her to him, crushing his mouth on hers. Wrapping his other arm across her small torso he pulled her across his chest. His face ached, his missing tooth throbbing to the point of nausea.

But he didn't care. It didn't matter.

_His, was she?_ Well then.

Han released her for a second, sitting up against her so they were nose to nose and wrapped one hand around her long bedraggled braid, pulling her head back as he dragged his teeth across her throat. The other hand rose to the front of her tunic and with a sharp movement he yanked the front open, pushing the material from her body and pulling her to him again.

He was starting to scare her but she held herself silent. She deserved everything he needed to do, she would tolerate anything in an attempt to fix the catastrophic mess she has created, she needed him back.

He flipped her suddenly then, pinning her down beneath him. Hands freed her bra and tossed it aside as his mouth attacked her throat and down her breasts, he pinched and teased her as she lay moaning and agitated beneath him. Hands landed on her hips, pressing her down solidly into the mattress of the oversize bunk, the bunk they had shared for five years. Five years which she had turned her back on so quickly. His fingers slide across the waistband of her pants, hooking into the sides and yanked them down to her knees, leaving her bound and helpless under him. Han bent his knee between her legs, pinning her hard to the bunk with her leggings. She wasn't wearing panties, and was exposed to him, mouth slightly open, breathing hard. Scared. He knew he should stop, this was hardly what either of them needed. They should really get some sleep and talk it over in the morning. But she squirmed beneath him just then and his thin strand of reason snapped.

_Fuck talking_, he thought angrily and descended his mouth on her once again.

Her skin was flushed and bruises on her arm were starting to show, but she didn't care. She wanted to touch him, but the hand wrapped around both her wrists pinned her helpless and all she could do was feel him, hard and ready above her.

He slid a hand deftly between her legs and she gasped.

"Did you want him, Leia?" He rasped, mouth near her ear.

"No. Never."

"Did you want him to touch you?"

"No! Han, please." She cried out.

"You are mine. Do you hear me? Mine!" he growled and slid a finger into her, watching her face intently. She bucked beneath him, eyes burning into his.

"Yes, yours." she moaned. "I love you," she breathed again, her hips straining to lift up towards him. The intrusive digit slid from her and he grasped her leggings, tugging them completely off of her legs, capturing a foot and bending her leg up across his hips and he settled fully between her thighs and brought his hand from holding her wrists down to land on either side of her small shoulders.

"Look at me, Leia." she forced her gaze back to his. It was unsettling, he had never used her name so much in the span of such a sort time. It made her nervous.

He slid into her, taking her fulling to the hilt, holding there, letting the size of him fill and stretch her. She was wonderfully tight, their months apart while he was off-world clearly noticeable. She groaned and tried to move, tried to alleviate a fraction of the mounting tension inside her. The pressure of it was bordering on unbearable, she needed him to move.

And then he did. It was too much. It wasn't enough - she couldn't decide. Her arms were leaden, heavy and clumsy, she dragged them across his shoulders, holding onto him, hips rising to greet his thrusts.

Holding her eyes, he moved above her, powerful and beautiful. He repeated her name, a mantra against the anger and fear which had been drowning inside of his heart for days.

Neither lasted. She cried out and he collapsed on top of her, tucking her under him protectively, hands cradling her head.

Breathing hard, he rested his forward against hers, feeling her breath hot against his face. He pulled out after a moment and kissed her softly on the throat, rolling over to gather her to him. She was asleep within seconds, a familiar, small heavy weight in his arms. He brushed the hair away from her face, she didn't stir, only mumbled his name and, sighing, nestled closer.

They weren't finished, they hadn't hardly even begun to repair the damage done in such a short period, but it was a start. They were here.

Tomorrow he needed answers, real answers. But tonight, he simply needed to hold her.

**xXx**

Leia woke slowly. She let the familiar hum of the sublights surround her, bringing her back from her dream of forests, bonfires, skyscrapers and streaking stars. They still hadn't jumped. Waiting perhaps, maybe they would simply dump her out the airlock. He had threatened to do that before, on a long haul moving base from Yavin4. She had been annoying, and he was sick of her.

She lifted her arm, intent on pulling Han closer to her, to whisper something delicious dirty to wake him. But her arms were heavy and her chest burned. The day before flooded back to her and she sat up quickly, covers falling off of her, revealing small splotches across her chest and down to her stomach. Hardly love-bites, she thought sadly and swung her legs off the bunk.

The light in the fresher blazed on, and she stared, exhausted and drained, at her reflection in the mirror. The bruises on her arm, left vividly by Han last night, stood deep and dark against her skin. Her body tingled and buzzed, thrumming wildly at the vastly unknown future.

Her ears rang; thundering still with the angry howling from last night. _Stupid human._

_Yes_, she agreed mentally nodding her head at Chewie. Yes, she was. But what now?

Last night hadn't given her any indication of what he wanted or what she could expect from him. Yesterday had been a blur of emotion. She felt wrung out, raw and ashamed. Chewie's ferocity had frightened her, not that he wasn't entitled to it, but the depth and intensity had thrown her at first. Han had been quiet, in pain and reserved since they boarded the Falcon, and she has tiptoed around the ship for a few hours, hiding in the fresher and generally hiding from inevitably. She heard him shift in the room beside her, and quietly call her name. She replied, and hastily splashed water on her face, taking one last look at herself in the mirror and thumbed the door open.

Brighter than when she left, the cabin's lights were dialed down to a dim night-time glow; 'Mood lighting' he had always called it, with a smile and a wink which never failed to make her blush. He was staring at her, hard. Looking straight through her. "You okay?" He finally asked, voice short.

She nodded and stepped lightly to the side of the bed, stooping to pick up the bacta gel which had been kicked to the floor last night. He held out his hand wordlessly and she handed it to him, standing still and silent, unsure, beside him. His features softened slightly and he held the blankets open, a wordless invitation which she seized quickly and climbed in beside him. Squeezing the gel out onto his fingers, he surprised her, rubbing instead the bruises dotting her arm. "I'm sorry." He whispered. Leia shook her head. "I hurt you. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She whispered back, her voice sounding far too loud in the quiet space.

"No. It's not."

They sat in silence as he massaged the tingling healer into her skin.

"You hurt me," his voice was small, so unlike him. Leia settled closer to him, resting a small hand again on his chest.

"I know." She breathed. She was wrenched. She had hurt him - causally tossed him aside for someone shinier; someone new. Someone who didn't know her, didn't love her. Han had freed her, and in turn had given her back to herself. Restored to her what she hadn't even known she had lost. She had let herself be led into destroying the person she loved and trusted above anything else. "I'm sorry. I love you."

He looked at her then, a small amount of cynicism creeping into his eyes, mixing with the pain that swam there. "You sure about that?" The stubborn set to his jaw made a smile tug at the corner of her mouth.

"Always."

He breathed out heavily and touched a strand of hair which had fallen near her ear.

"I promised you I wouldn't leave." He stated, she opened her mouth to interrupt him, to apologize again and beg him to forgive her. "No, let me finish." He swept his thumb across her lower lip, swallowing, holding her eyes. "And I promised you, I would never let anyone hurt you. I promised to protect you. Remember?" she nodded, she did remember. He had promised her that. Over and over again through the years. He had promised to stay with her on a small out of the way planet she couldn't ever remember the name of, several months after the destruction of the first Death Star. She was worried, their contact hadn't shown up and everything was starting to fall apart. A member of their team had had enough and gone out in search of food. Han argued with the man, they should stay together, if things got messy, he was leaving first chance he got. She had sat back into the dark window. Fine, she had thought, let them all leave. The man stomped out anyway and the couple fell back into silence. She waited. Waited for him to leave her too. But he didn't. They didn't speak. Just sat, staring into the dark. Han had started pacing at 2100, it had taken half an hour for Leia to snap. "Leave then, I know you want to. Go." He had stopped, staring at her, recognizing her outburst for what it actually was. She was afraid.

"I'm not leaving you."

"I know you're bored." She snapped.

"I am. But I'm not leaving you."

"Why not? This is a mess anyway."

"It is. But I'm not leaving you."

Aggravating man. He was always threatening to leave. Why not now?

"But-"

"Forget it, Princess. I'm staying put."

"Whatever."

They lapsed back into silence and had eventually both fallen asleep – Leia still in the window, Han leaned back against the sofa, feet propped up in front of him, blaster resting on his knees. She woke up before him the next morning at daybreak, disoriented and frozen, curled up in the small space and marveled that he was in fact, still there. Their wayward party joined up again the next day and their departure happened without incident.

He had made that promise many more times over the last seven years. And each time it pulled at her heart.

"I remember." She whispered, feeling the cold fear creep through her again as she recalled his desperate promise, the venom in his voice crackling as she clung to him, terrified, in the bowels of Cloud City, waiting. She huddled between his legs, pressed tightly into him, face tucked securely to his chest. She could feel his heart. He was terrified too. Scared for her; for them. Blaming himself for their situation. "Leia," he whispered desperately, squeezing her tightly as he spoke. "Leia, listen to me. I won't let them hurt you." She had shaken her head and said nothing. He couldn't promise that. They would, and he couldn't stop them. "No, listen. I won't. I'll protect you, Sweetheart. I promise." She had kept quiet. She didn't believe him, and he knew that. Instead she kissed his throat hard, feeling the blood pounding under her lips.

And, against all odds, he had protected her. They had come for them and he fought - desperately keeping her behind him. Guards finally seized him and dragging him away from her. She was left alone, listening to his screaming from the other side of the wall, knowing that – if not for him – it would have been her, hating that it wasn't.

It had been worth it, he had breathed later, battered and beaten, lying on the sliding slab as she stroked his hair. Better him than her.

She shook her head against the memory.

"I meant it Leia." He said softly, still fiddling with the strand of hair between his fingers. "I'll always mean it."

"Are you sure?" she whispered. He crooked a smile at her. "I have wanted you from the moment I saw you, and I have loved you since you ordered me into a garbage shoot and called me 'Flyboy'. I'll never stop, Leia. I can't."

She launched herself at him, clutching him around his shoulders, trembling with the massive effort not to cry. He held her tightly to him, feeling the smallness of her under his hands.

"So," he said, easing her back in front of him after a moment, their noses were almost touching. "That being said, I need to know if you still feel the same."

"I do. I'm so-" he stopped her.

"I know. I'm sorry too."

"Why? You didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one who hurt us."

"Yes I did. I let everyone believe that I was happy, including you."

"What do you mean?" her heart clenched. _Oh Gods_.

"Marry me, Leia."

"What?"

"Marry me."


End file.
